


Rigorous Testing

by Sarah K (tears_of_nienna)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Kiss, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Tony talks too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tears_of_nienna/pseuds/Sarah%20K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony can't sleep, he wanders around Avengers headquarters. Sometimes, he runs into people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rigorous Testing

The Avengers might be using it as a clubhouse, but it's still Tony's house--tower--whatever. The point is, he doesn't have to explain himself. If he wants to wander through the gym on the forty-sixth floor at three in the morning with a cup of coffee in his hand, he can do that. His tower. It has his name on it--or had, until very recently.

Of course JARVIS could have told him that the gym was occupied, as well as who was occupying it and how long they'd been there. There's not a lot that JARVIS _couldn't_ tell him, which makes Tony kind of wish he'd built some extra failsafes into the system to keep JARVIS from using his powers for mischief. Or evil. Evil would be bad, too, but the amount of mischief that an AI can cause in a building that it basically runs is the stuff of Tony's tamer nightmares. JARVIS would probably start by broadcasting a holograph of Tony dancing in the shower to AC/DC...in every room of the building.

Not that he dances in the shower.

Anyway. Someone's clearly using the gym, which means that someone else is awake, and Tony could really use some company other than the thoughts currently ricocheting around inside his head. He follows the faint sounds of activity through the locker room and into the gym itself.

Only one bank of lights is on, casting a spotty amber glow through the room where somebody is delivering some serious punishment to a punching bag. Tony peers around the boxing ring to see who it is.

Steve. Of course it's Steve. No one else goes five hundred rounds with a heavy bag in the middle of the night. He's facing away from Tony, and Tony can see the muscles of his shoulders shifting and flexing as he hits the bag. Steve's just wearing a pair of gray sweatpants--no shirt, no shoes, and honestly Tony has no issue with that. He's a little surprised to see that Steve's sweatpants aren't star-spangled. 

At least, he's pretty sure that's the reason he's staring at Steve's ass.

Steve makes a quiet sound, a little more than a sigh but nothing so uncouth as a grunt. Tony realizes that he's hitting the heavy bag _barehanded_ , and that has to hurt, super serum or no super serum.

Steve takes a deep breath and goes in for another round, blows raining down on the bag so fast that the echoes double and triple as they bounce off the walls of the empty gym.

Finally the bag splits, spilling sand all over the floor, and Steve stops. He hardly reacts at all--it's probably happened before. Tony makes a note to order some more workout equipment in the morning.

But for now, maybe he should just leave. He turns to go. Steve doesn't really seem like he's in the mood for company, anyway, and he's actually kind of shy for someone who spent so much of the early '40s on one kind of stage or another--

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Stupid super soldier and his super hearing. Tony turns back and shrugs. "Maybe. Probably. I don't sleep all that much, though. Never did, and now this thing--" He taps the arc reactor with a faint _clink_. "--it's like a night light, all the time. Incredibly distracting. Makes it hard to sleep."

"And that coffee you're drinking in the middle of the night has nothing to do with it?"

Tony eyes him over the ceramic mug and takes a deliberate slurp. "Nope. Nothing at all."

"Sure." There's a faint smile lurking in the corners of Steve's mouth. Tony can see it from halfway across the room.

"So that's why I'm not sleeping. What about you?"

The smile vanishes, and Tony kind of hates himself for making that happen.

"I don't need to sleep as much as I did, um, before. And when I do, it's just..." He shakes his head. "I'd rather be awake."

Bad dreams. Tony's more than familiar with _that_ lovely side-effect of Avengers business. When you've fought flying armored fish-monsters as long as the George Washington Bridge, it messes with you.

And if Steve's going to be honest with him, the least Tony can do is return the favor. He sighs. "Okay, so it's not really the built-in night light. Or the coffee--Pepper keeps mixing decaf into it, even though she knows I can tell. It's just--things are always happening, always changing. You never know what crazy bullshit Fury's going to call us in on next, so we have to be prepared for every possibility and about sixty percent of the _im_ possibilities, too. And sure, some of us don't need to rely on tech, but the rest of us aren't Asgardians or super soldiers or unjolly green giants. If there's an exploitable weakness in the Iron Man suit, I stop being a hero and start being a liability. Plus, like ninety percent of the toys we use have Stark Industries parts. Hawkeye's bow and quiver were made in the workroom downstairs. The cell phones that S.H.I.E.L.D. uses have Stark microprocessors. Even the SMART pants that keep the Hulk decent are Stark Micro-Adaptable Resilient Textiles. If something goes wrong with any of those things, we are in deep shit, and it'll be my fault."

"I don't think the Hulk losing his pants would be a tactical disaster for the Avengers."

"Oh, right, because fighting alongside a nine-foot-tall, _naked_ green rage monster is everyone's favorite thing."

There's the smile again, and Tony totally understands how Steve became a movie star for a while. "We'd survive. It's what we _do_." Steve ambles across the gym, stepping in and out of the light. He stops just in front of Tony. "We're a team, Tony. You can't take it all on yourself."

"Yes, I can. I can't do anything else. I don't have an off switch," Tony says, gesturing at his temple. "This? Is always on. There is no switch. Believe me, I've tried to find one. So have plenty of other people--girlfriends, supervillains, Pepper Potts...Reed Richards tried to _install_ one once, funny story, but I wound up tying his stupid rubber arms into a reef knot and then--mmpf."

Steve bends down and presses his lips to Tony's, cutting him off in mid-ramble. Tony's mouth drops open a little in shock. Steve makes a soft sound of appreciation, but he doesn't press the advantage. Maybe tongues were a second-date thing back in the '40s.

Tony goes with it, settling his free hand on Steve's bicep and leaning into the kiss--hell, it's not like it's ever going to happen again, and he's going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Which isn't nearly long enough. Steve pulls away after a minute or so and drops his gaze down to the floor. He's _blushing_ , Captain goddamn America is blushing, and there is no way that should be as sexy as it is.

"Okay," Tony says, a little unsteadily. "Uh, I think we may have found a pause button."

Steve looks up at him, and the blush is still there, but he's smiling now, a broad, half-shy grin that Tony just wants to lick right off his face. "Really?"

"Maybe. Can't be sure yet. We'll have to do more research, find out if it's a universal reaction or subject-specific. Richards would pay good money for the research, although he is _so_ not allowed to test it, and--oh, are we doing this again? Good, good. Rigorous testing is a cornerstone of the scientific method."

"Tony." Steve's mouth is an inch away.

"Yeah?"

"Please shut up."

Tony does.


End file.
